Hotter On Ice / Slow Hands

She blinked at him with a hint of surprise. Her cheeks flushed, and then she smiled. “Then why are you still across the room?”

“I want to enjoy this part. When you look at me like it’s my mouth you want, no one else’s.” His voice dipped lower. “I want to savor it.”

Another sharp jolt of urgent lust shot through him, and he palmed his cock and gave that impatient bastard another rough stroke.

It had been so long since he had gone down on a woman. Years, despite how much he got off on it. Since that first kiss with Alya, he had been thinking about it. What would she like best? What would she sound like? Now, finally, finally, he would find out. And oh, God, how he ached to know.

He took one slow step, then another, watching each reaction from her, the parting of her lips, the quickening of her pulse as he came closer, closer. Henning pulled off his top and bottoms, but he left his boxers on. Then he knelt on the bed, one knee on one side of her, one knee on the other. She rolled onto her back, and he lowered himself onto his forearms until he could feel the heat of her skin under him. Until her quick breaths warmed his cheeks. Because beneath all this beauty was so much emotion. She had been burned. Nick had used her emotions against her, trying to manipulate her, to drive her back to him. What Henning could give her right now, on this bed, was a safe place to let that guard down and simply feel. And fuck, he had so many plans for how to make her feel.

He bent his head and pressed his lips to her pale, slim neck, exposed just for him. Heaven. He kissed her jaw and then her lips.

“You smell so fucking good,” he murmured, looking down at her.

“You do, too,” she whispered.

Then she wove her fingers into his hair, tugging his head down, guiding his lips to hers. The onslaught of sensations took over, washing through him as her lips melted onto his. Hungry strokes and sucks and nips...he couldn’t get enough. He was drowning again, lost in the drive to press his skin against hers, move his hard body against her soft curves, drive his cock into the heaven of her wet, tight pussy. To never let this end.

This last thought jolted him back to reality, and Henning pulled away.

“You’re distracting me,” he said with a heavy, low laugh. “I have other plans.”

“Plans that don’t involve kissing?” Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, and her voice, husky.

“Oh, baby.” Henning groaned. “There will definitely be kissing. Everywhere.”

He started with her collarbone. “Here,” he whispered, his mouth on her salty-sweet skin. He kissed a line down her chest, up the rise of her breast. “And here.” Her nipple was hard under his tongue, and she hissed out a breath as he took it between his lips. He cupped one breast with his hand and fit it in his mouth, sucking. His cock gave a kick, and he groaned and sucked harder. Oh, fuck, why did her perky little tits turn him on like they did? If he kept this up, he was going to come before she did. He ran his tongue over her nipple one more time and moved lower.

“You wet, baby?” he rasped, his lips on the soft skin of her belly.

“For you,” she whispered, sending another jolt to his cock.

Those two words made his heart stutter. For him. The scent of sex was everywhere, pulling him down her body, over her naked mound until finally, finally he was there. How many times had he imagined this, never once thinking that it could really happen? His cock was begging for attention, the insistent fucker, used to getting its share when he played through this scenario, but there was no way he was focusing on that. Because this was so achingly real. So he took another deep inhale and tasted.

Oh, God, his mouth. He was covering her with his mouth, worshipping her with it. Swirls of his tongue, little scrapes of his teeth, all working some kind of magic spell on her. He was a man of few words, but he definitely knew how to use his mouth when he wanted to. Never had she felt a man so intensely focused on her experience. It was as if this was the ultimate turn-on, the moment he had waited for, which...couldn’t be right, could it? But, ooooh, he certainly seemed intent on proving her wrong. He licked and groaned and licked again, like going down on her was getting him just as worked up as she was. With each grunt, coarse and guttural, he went in for more.

“You like my mouth?” he said, his lips, his breath teasing her.

“I love it,” she whimpered.

“You taste so fucking good.”

He sucked on her clit, sending her dangerously close to the edge. Her moans were loud, scraping her throat as they poured out, and they seemed to pour fuel on his fire.

“Christ,” he muttered, and one hand left her hip while the other slid between her legs.

She opened her eyes and looked down at him. One of his enormous hands was inside his boxers, and his eyes were closed, his teeth bared. Was he jacking off while going down on her? Holy hell, she didn’t realize this could get any hotter, but it just did. She shifted to get a better look at this quiet, restrained man as he gave himself over to a moment of pleasure.

But when she moved, his eyes snapped open, and a dark smile tugged at his mouth. “You like seeing me like this? All strung out on the taste of you, on the feel of you under my hands and my mouth?”

“God, yes.” The answer slipped off her lips. For once, she wasn’t worried about why she loved this or what it meant. She simply let go.

Then he pressed his mouth against her clit and slid two fingers inside her, taking over, filling her senses, erasing everything except the vision of him, pleasuring her like it was the only thing he had ever wanted.

Whatever you want from me. Take it.

His words came back as white streaks of heat exploded. Her orgasm rolled through her. It was too much. She was making sounds like a wounded animal, cries, whimpers as she came down. Henning growled, lapping at her, drawing out her pleasure. Just...bliss.

Finally Henning kissed her softly, almost tenderly. Then he rose up on his knees. His face was tight, strained, and his cock twitched in his boxers, leaving a wet circle where his tip pushed at the material. He heaved in breaths, the muscles on his chest rippling, his biceps tense. His hands flexed. And she knew exactly what he was holding himself back from doing.

“Do it,” she whispered.

Henning groaned and reached inside his boxers, pulling out his hot, thick erection. Whoa. She had felt it against her, but seeing his enormous cock was still a shock. His smile was dark as he gave himself a rough tug. “See how hard you make me?”

The hottest words were coming out of his mouth, and she loved it. Her hand moved to her clit instinctively as she watched his hand sliding up and down his huge erection.

He took her in once more, head to toe, and then he roared. He thrust, pointing his cock at her and came, came, came. A second orgasm ripped through her, her slick body shuddering, as she watched the ecstasy take over his features, his hips pumping. The room was filled with sharp gasps as they both stared, openmouthed, at her stomach, slick with his come. Henning looked even more shocked than she felt.

Alya’s mouth dropped open as ripples of pleasure still rolled through her. A burst of laughter bubbled up and came out, loud and sudden, and once it came, it didn’t stop. She covered her mouth, but it didn’t help. The laughter escaped in snorts. Henning’s eyes widened, and he stared at her like she was bat-shit crazy.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” she said between giggles. “That we did that.”

Henning’s eyes moved from hers to the ribbons of come and back to hers. He lifted his hand to his face, touching his scars with his fingers absently. Then he frowned. “That got way out of hand.”

“No. Don’t say that.” Alya shook her head quickly. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done. So don’t you dare look at me like you regret it.”

He was still staring at her with a stunned look. “You’re really okay with it? Because I said a lot of things...”

Alya fell back onto the bed, chuckling. “I loved every one of them.” His forehead wrinkled, as if he couldn’t quite believe it, so she added, “I trust you, Henning. You have to trust me, too. It goes both ways.”

He stared at her some more, so she waited him out. Then, finally, his expression eased. “Okay. You’re right. But let me help clean you up.”

Something about his offering, the way he was looking at her, tugged at her heart. And she flashed to a scene of him following her into the shower, taking his time to clean her, to explore her body, all that intense focus—

No. Having him care for her like that would cross the line she had drawn for herself when they started. It would take them into more vulnerable territory, areas where she had failed spectacularly. Alya was so much stronger on her own, and with this newfound freedom, she’d traveled across the world for an amazing career opportunity and had just had the best sex of her life. There was no way she was going to tangle this up with her old baggage. She had watched her mother get sucked in by each new boyfriend or husband, and it never ended well. Alya had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t be involved with another man until she was sure she could stand on her own. Only then could she find something healthy, something real.

Alya forced herself to smile, to wave his offer off. “I’ll just take a shower.”

His expression darkened, but she ignored another tug at her heart and climbed off the bed, heading for the bathroom. Once safely inside, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes. This was a game about attraction and wish-fulfillment, with clear boundaries around it. She couldn’t let herself cross them, no matter what Henning made her feel.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.